No one answers my question. They all stare, probably wondering what my problem is. I make eye contact with the adult members of my family and when Elle touches my arm, I brush her off as I head toward the double doors that lock us in or keep everyone out.

“Noah.” My father’s voice is stern. I don’t turn around to look at him. I don’t need to see the disappointment in his eyes right now. I push through the doors and hightail it to the stairs. My feet pound the concrete, taking them two at a time until I’ve reached the top. My hands are clenched into fists as I pound on the wall.

Why of all people is it Zimmerman? He’s not my foe, but he’s a football player and I stayed away from her purposely so she could have a life, and yet she’s with him and now… No, I can’t say it. I can’t bring myself even think it. Peyton is going to survive. She’s going to wake up and I’m going to tell her how I feel and put the ball in her court and hope that she feels the same. For all I know, she’s in love with him.

“No, she would’ve told me,” I say out loud as I start to pace. Would she have told me? There’s a good chance that she would’ve kept this to herself. Maybe she felt like it wasn’t my business. But no, Katelyn said, “she had a date” that means something.

I open the door and step out into the hallway. It’s fairly dark and eerily quiet. I find myself tiptoeing down the hall, pausing when I come to open hospital room doors, looking to see if the rooms are occupied. I don’t know why, it’s a morbid curiosity I suppose. As far as I can tell this floor is empty. I don’t know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or turn and run back to the stairs.

My heart is pounding and my palms are sweating. With each step I take, the fear builds. How is it possible that a hospital in Chicago has an empty floor?

“Can I help you?”

I turn to find a short older woman, dressed in white standing behind me. I won’t go as far to say she’s creepy, but the thought is crossing my mind.

“I… uh…”

“Are you looking for someone?”

Am I?

I nod. “Zimmerman. Kyle Zimmerman. I thought I was told he was on floor…” I look at the stark white walls for any indication of what floor I’m on but there are none.

“He’s not on this floor,” she deadpans and turns to the side as if that’s my indication to leave. Don’t need to tell me twice.

“Thanks.” I walk by her as fast as I can, not stopping until I’m at the elevators. I turn back and she’s watching me. Everything about this situation seems like a scene from a horror movie and I’m determined to believe that I’m making it all up. Nonetheless, I push the heavy metal door open and hustle down the stairs as fast as I can.

When I get to Peyton’s floor, my hand rests on the handle, but I don’t tug it open. My mind goes back to her and Zimmerman. He’s somewhere in this hospital and I intend to find him. Another flight down, I exit the stairwell and hop in the elevator. I figure my best chance at finding out which room he’s in will be from my agent.

The temperature must’ve dropped a few degrees in the last hour. I shiver as I stand outside, waiting for my phone to boot up. Once it does, the notifications start coming in again. There are a few from my teammates asking if I’m heading out with them tonight, but most are from Dessie, and I can’t stomach to look at those right now. I tap the green Phone icon, press Allen’s name and bring the handset to my ear. It rings twice before he’s answering.

“Westbury?” Allen became my agent the day my college football career ended. He was one of the few who didn’t come after me early, which earned a lot of respect from me. “Everything okay?”

“My friend was in a really bad accident and isn’t expected to make it through the night.” My heart seizes as I say those words. I want to take them back and tell Allen that she is going to make it, but it’s too late. This entire time I’ve been telling myself that Peyton will pull through, refusing to believe what the doctor has said or what everyone around me believes.

“Let me know what I can do for you.” He doesn’t have a clue who Peyton is, but cares anyway. Not because it’s his job, but because that’s the type of man he is. I’ve heard the horror stories about my dad’s manager, Sam, so I’m thankful Allen is a stand-up guy.

I nod even though he can’t see me and kick a pile of snow away from me. “There is one thing if you don’t mind.”

“Anything.”

“Kyle Zimmerman was also in an accident this evening and is rumored to be at the same hospital. I’d like to pay him a visit.” I tell him which hospital I’m at, but nothing more. Allen doesn’t need to know why I have to go see Kyle. Something tells me that he’ll find out soon enough. Undoubtedly there will be a reporter that will put two and two together after Harrison holds a press conference tomorrow and Peyton’s love affair with Kyle will be all over the news.

“Sure, sure. I’ll find out what room and text you.”

“Thanks.” We hang up, and I decide to sit on a bench near the entrance. The whooshing of the sliding doors is somewhat calming. It oddly reminds me of the machines that are helping keep Peyton alive.

An elderly man, who has seen better days, sits down next to me. I’m trying not to stare, but I can’t help it. It’s cold here and this gentleman is wearing tattered clothing and a light jacket.

“Hey Mister, I know you,” he says. My head snaps toward him and I smile, recalling those exact same words that I said to my dad before I knew who he was.

I extend by hand and shake his rather frail one. “Noah Westbury.”

“Leonard Ramsey. My friends call me Leo.”

“Well, I hope to some day call you Leo, Mr. Ramsey.” He smiles an almost toothless grin.

“What brings you to Chicago?”

“My friend is here,” I say, motioning with my head toward the hospital.

“Oh, and here I was hoping you were coming to play for a real team.” He laughs and as much as I don’t want to, I do as well.

“I like Portland. We’re young. We’ll be good soon.”

“If you say so.” Again, he’s laughing at his own joke.

I don’t know how long Leonard and I sit there talking about football. He has a plethora of knowledge and all I can think is that Peyton would love to be out here with us. When Allen finally texts, I’m torn on what to do. The urge to go see Kyle is stronger than ever, but hanging with Leonard is nice. It’s peaceful and keeps my mind off what’s going on one floor above me.

“How long are you in town for?” he asks, tearing my gaze away from my phone.

“Few days. I have to go back.”

“Practice… it’s just practice.” He smiles, and this time I find myself laughing.

“Allen Iverson. I remember that press conference.” Allen Iverson could’ve been one of the greatest in the NBA, but his attitude got him into trouble a lot. “You know Leonard, you’ve really turned the last hour or so around for me. Thank you.”

He waves me off as if it’s no big deal. I’d like to do something for him and normally, the guys and I walk up and down the streets of Portland with bags of food feeding the homeless, but with the cafeteria closed there isn’t much I can do. I take my wallet out of my back pocket and open it. There’s a couple hundred in there, which is now his.

“I have to run, but thank you, Mr. Ramsey,” I say as I shake his hand. I don’t know if he can feel the cash being pressed into his palm or not, either way, it’s his.

“Please call me Leo.”

I smile and nod. “Leo. Thank you!”

He calls after me once he realizes what I’ve done, but I don’t stop. He doesn’t need to thank me for anything because what he’s done for me in the little time we’ve spent together, is worth more than anything.

I take the elevator to Kyle’s floor. When I pass the nurse’s station, she hollers out that visiting hours are over. I ignore her. What I have to say won’t take long. I don’t bother knocking when I enter his room. He’s watching television, Sports Center to be exact, and his leg is suspended in the air.

“Westbury?” Of course he looks surprised to see me. He reaches forward to shake my hand, but I don’t budge. His surprised expression quickly morphs into something upsetting. “They’re already replacing me?” Kyle slams his head back onto his pillow and sighs. “I figured they’d at least wait until the morning. You’re here to take my job, huh?”

“No, I’m here because you’ve about killed the woman I’m in love with.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I wasn’t intending to tell him that I love Peyton, only that she’s close to me.

Zimmerman’s eyes go wide but quickly turn to confusion. “Aren’t you with some model? I don’t understand.”

“I’m referring to Peyton.”

“Peyton?”

“Yes, the one who you somehow conned to get into your car, then tried to kill.”

Kyle shakes his head. “No. I was taking her out to dinner. I saw her earlier, at the game, and we clicked.”

My jaw clenches. I don’t want to hear that they hit it off. That she would choose him over me. I look down at my wet shoes to avoid eye contact with Kyle. I’m so stupid for not telling her years ago how I felt.

“Can I see her?”

“No!” I blurt out.

“Yeah, my lawyer says the same thing. I didn’t…” he pauses and turns his attention to the window. “That truck came out of nowhere.”

Just like the one that killed her father.

“Please tell her I’m sorry, that I’ll make it up to her. I don’t know how or when, but I will.”

“Right. Well, if she survives I’ll be sure to let her know how sorry you are.” I stand and head toward the door.

“Westbury?” he calls out. “I didn’t know she was seeing someone, let alone you. I’m not the kind of guy who moves in on another man’s woman. I didn’t know. But if she is yours and you’re messing around on her…” he shakes his head. “She seems like too good a woman to have a man treat her like that.”

I don’t bother correcting or telling him that I agree as I leave his room. He doesn’t need to know that I’m battling demons right now. Instead of heading back to Peyton’s floor to spend more time with her, I go back down to the main entrance, hoping that my new friend is there. Luckily for me, he is.

“Why are you still here, Leo?” I’m thankful he is but expected him to be at the nearest diner eating his weight in meatloaf.

He shrugs. “Someone told me that I should wait for you, that you need a friend.”

I look around, wondering if my mom or Elle is outside. “Who?”

“Dunno. Couldn’t get a good look at her, but she told me she loves you and asked that I stay until you came back. So here I am.”

“Yeah, here you are. Why don’t we go inside? The cafeteria isn’t serving food right now, but they have disgusting coffee with our names on it.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says as he gets up and follows me inside. He walks with a slight hunch and shuffles his feet as fast as he can to keep up with my long stride. The receptionist gives me a look, but I ignore her. A hospital is supposed to be a safe haven for people like Leo.

“I’m really glad you were still out there,” I say to him as we enter the elevator.

“Me too. Now I can tell you what’s wrong with your team.” He laughs, and deep down I’m laughing too. It has to be the first time since I heard the news about Peyton, and it feels pretty good.